"FALLING BACK"
Old Joe knows what he is up to. Every night we change our position. The morrow's sun finds us face to face with the Yankee lines. The troops are in excellent spirits. Yonder are our "big guns," our cavalry— Forrest and Wheeler—our sharpshooters, and here is our wagon and supply train, right in our midst. The private's tread is light—his soul is happy.
Another flank movement. Tomorrow finds us face to face. Well, you have come here to fight us; why don't you come on? We are ready; always ready. Everything is working like clockwork; machinery is all in order. Come, give us a tilt, and let us try our metal. You say old Joe has got the brains and you have got the men; you are going to flank us out of the Southern Confederacy. That's your plan, is it? Well, look out; we are going to pick off and decimate your men every day. You will be a picked chicken before you do that.
What? The Yankees are at Resacca, and have captured the bridge across the Oostanaula river. Well, now, that's business; that has the old ring in it. Tell it to us again; we're fond of hearing such things.
The Yankees are tearing up the railroad track between the tank and Resacca. Let's hear it again. The Yankees have opened the attack; we are going to have a battle; we are ordered to strip for the fight. (That is, to take off our knapsacks and blankets, and to detail Bev. White to guard them.) Keep closed up, men. The skirmish line is firing like popping fire-crackers on a Christmas morning. Every now and then the boom of a cannon and the screaming of a shell. Ha, ha, ha! that has the right ring. We will make Sherman's incendiaries tell another tale in a few moments, when—"Halt! about face." Well, what's the matter now? Simply a flank movement. All right; we march back, retake our knapsacks and blankets, and commence to march toward Resacca. Tom Tucker's rooster crows, and John Branch raises the tune, "Just Twenty Years Ago," and after we sing that out, he winds up with, "There Was an Ancient Individual Whose Cognomen Was Uncle Edward," and
"The old woman who kept a peanut stand,
And a big policeman stood by with a big stick in his hand,"
And Arthur Fulghum halloes out, "All right; go ahead! toot, toot, toot! puff, puff, puff! Tickets, gentlemen, tickets!" and the Maury Grays raise the yell, "All aboard for Culleoka," while Walker Coleman commences the song, "I'se gwine to jine the rebel band, fightin' for my home." Thus we go, marching back to Resacca.